


A Double Shot of Color

by panaceaa



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Kenny has dreams of being an artist, Kyle gave up on dreaming a long time ago, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-10 10:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15289362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panaceaa/pseuds/panaceaa
Summary: Between having a perfect girlfriend and law school paving the way towards a successful future, Kyle is perfectly miserable living a life that most would dream of. That is, until he meets a barista who draws on the side of his coffee cups just to see him smile, and Kyle suddenly discovers something he's unknowingly been searching for his whole life.





	A Double Shot of Color

Slamming the door behind him, Kyle steps out onto his front porch and immediately turns and rams his fist into the unyielding wood as if to accentuate his point. Pain immediately spikes through his knuckles at the action, and he curses, looking down to see blood welling up from the scraped and broken skin. Well, wasn’t that just fucking great. He swears he can hear the dumbasses’ stupid laughter through the thick walls. Fucking fatass.

Through the stinging pain and the anger still boiling within his gut, Kyle closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, opening them again to the sight of the outside world. The grayscale path that led from his apartment stretching out before him. Framed by the densely packed buildings that were shoved so closely next to each other that only the most pitiful of weeds were allowed in terms of vegetation. Leaving South Park had always been a dream of his growing up, yet somehow the city managed to be even more dull and colorless then his small mountain town. Pure relentless monotony. But that was just way the real world worked.

It was life.

Chest still heaving in anger and nails digging little half moons into the flesh of his palms, Kyle finally walks down the steps of his apartment and begins to make his way across town towards his college. It’s seven thirty in the morning so in truth he still has about an hour and a half before he needs to be in class; yet, he also hadn’t trusted Stan enough to stop him from murdering Cartman if he’d stayed in their shared apartment for any longer. Although his hand would have probably fared a bit better if the wall had been the fatasses face as he had imagined. A true tragedy. This is what he got for being a better person apparently; although, that’s not to say that it hadn’t taken a whole book of restraint. After all, it was a well known fact that in order to function Kyle needed exactly one cup of black coffee in the morning. Which was precisely why his tub of lard of a roommate had somehow managed to break the coffee maker. Again.

Kyle really was going to kill him one day.

He really couldn’t wait to move the hell out of that damn apartment. He loved Stan, but his super best friend just didn’t care enough to stop Cartman from...being Cartman half the time. Leave the two alone for a few hours and he’d walk in to find Stan typing away on his phone while the fatass attempted to set the place on fire or some shit just because at the end of the day he lived for pissing Kyle the hell off.

Then again that was exactly why he’d been out looking at apartments lately in the first place. Not that it was the only reason, but…

Kyle sighs.

...He really wasn’t as excited about it as he should have been. In all honesty, he’d much rather be ten years old again, living at home with his annoying parents yet without any real problems. No, those problems would only come later. Being sixteen with a multitude of applications being thrown in his face. Looking at different law schools and hating each and every one of them despite the smile plastered on his face. Holding the hand of a beautiful girl who both his parents and friends adored.

_“You really lucked out with that one.”_

_“Oh she’s amazing bubbe! You bring her around more often, you hear?”_

Looking up from the grayscale world, Kyle sees that the sky is a bright and clear blue. A shade that spoke of freedom. A horizon that stretched out for countless miles, a world and lives that existed that he’d never get the chance to know. When he was younger he used to have a dream of taking one big road trip. Of grabbing Stan by the sleeve and dragging him along as the two of them drove for miles, with no destination in mind. Just seeing where the road out there might lead.

But he was too old for that now. Too many responsibilities.

He tears his eyes away from the sky.

It was always kind of a stupid idea anyway.

Continuing to walk the same route to his college as always, Kyle takes a moment to kick a bottle rolling across the sidewalk. The apartment he shared with Stan and Cartman was a little ways off campus, but he honestly didn’t mind the walk. At least not enough to convince himself it was a good idea to dish out a couple hundred dollars for a damn parking pass. Yeah, no thanks. Walking always gave him time to clear his head anyway.

Not that it seemed to be doing such a good job of it on this morning in particular. He kicks the bottle again, this time it spinning oddly off his foot and just barely missing the window of one of the shops. Kyle winces, and after doing a cursory glance around him, reads the sign of the shop he’d almost accidentally vandalized, and is surprised to see that it was actually a coffee shop. Huh, go figure. On closer inspection he faintly recognizes it as a place he had gone in once or twice before with Stan. It was a decent place, nothing special, but the lines were usually short and the tables were usually empty, at least from what he remembered Stan saying about the place. And as far as Kyle knew, Stan wasn’t really that big on coffee in general, so if he found something about the place that happened to be enough to keep him coming back, then it had to have been good.

So, in a split second decision, he veers off course and heads inside.

The first thing he notices is that the place certainly has a certain charm to it. The counters and tables a deep mahogany while the light green painted walls gave off a distinguishable comforting feeling. Almost homey. Especially paired with the relaxing dimness of the lights. His eye immediately catches on a signboard posted right above the counter, spelling out ‘Special of the Day!’ in twirling pink letters. Sitting right underneath the text was a drawing of a chubby raccoon holding a giant coffee cup which even Kyle in his current mood manages to crack a smile at.

A smile that immediately falls not a moment later.

Kyle switches his gaze to the counter only to notice that the barista was staring at his hand with unwavering focus. Instinctively Kyle flexes his fingers and is rewarded with a sharp sting in his knuckles. Oh right, it was probably still bleeding. Although, his movement does make the barista quickly switch his gaze to his face, and the moment they make eye contact the blond haired kid makes some sort of weird noise and then practically runs into the back without a word.

What the hell? His hand wasn’t that bad!

Before the twitchy blond vanishes behind the large swinging grey door, he passes by another barista who had just emerged from there. He gives his co-worker a slightly concerned look before switching his gaze to Kyle. Walking up to the counter, his eyes land on his bloody hand but, unlike the previous barista, he doesn’t seem too concerned about it. More understanding, as if he was satisfied with having just put the pieces together on why his co-worker had just ran past him with something akin to a terrified squawk.

The barista meets his eyes with a lopsided little grin, and Kyle’s heart skips a beat. His eyes were a startling bright shade of blue, so deep and vivid that it leaves him speechless and unable to look away. If eyes really were the windows to the soul, then this had to be one hell of a guy.

The blond thankfully breaks their stare first, and darts his gaze back to Kyle’s wounded hand.

“You alright, dude?” he asks and Kyle blinks, shaking himself out of his momentary stupor.

“I punched a wall.”

“Oh?” The barista says, eyes glittering with amusement. “And how’d that work out for you?”

Kyle just glowers in response, pride taking precedence over any prior enchantment. Freaking comedian of a barista thought he was _so_ funny.

Catching his change in demeanor, the blond’s grin widens into something almost mischievous in nature. “Well, I’m sure the wall was very sorry for whatever it did to upset you.” Then without missing a beat he asks, “What can I get for ya?”

Choosing to ignore his witticisms, Kyle orders his single black coffee to which the blond gives him a highly amused look, as if saying without words that Kyle was the exact type of person he’d expect would drink his coffee black. He states the price. Kyle hands over his card and the barista swipes it through the register before handing it back.

“What’s your name?” The blond asks as Kyle slips his card back into his wallet.

Kyle shoots him an odd look.

“...Why?”

“For the cup, dude,” he answers with an easy shrug.

Taking a cursory glance around him, Kyle raises a brow. “But I’m the only one in here.”

“What are you some secret spy or something?” The barista rolls his eyes. “It’s just a name. You can even make one up if you want. Like I don’t know…’Elf King’, or ‘hot redhead’.”

Kyle just continues staring at him incredulously. This guy had way too large of an imagination. ...Where the hell did he even get Elf King from?

“It’s Kyle,” he admits after a moment.

“Now, is that your real name?”

“Could be.”

“Oh mysterious.” The barista winks, somehow managing to make the action smooth and not at all corny. “I like it.”

And with that, he turns to prepare his drink. A relatively short process considering all he has to do is pour coffee into a cup and be done with it; although, he does seem to take his time with it. A few moments later he turns and passes Kyle the cup, something that might be mirth lighting up his expression. Kyle’s a little confused as to why, until he notices what exactly had taken him that little bit of extra time.

On his cup is a drawing of what is apparently him but with elf ears and a branch crown with the label ‘Elf King Kyle’. And he is, of course, being carried in the arms of a guy wearing a dress labeled ‘hot barista Kenny’. There’s something distinctly childish about it, something so completely silly that it’s almost nostalgic. Reminds Kyle of when he and Stan used to play video games in his room late at night, before applications and homework took over his life.

Despite his best effort, Kyle finds himself cracking a smile and he snorts.

Kenny gives an exaggerated gasp. “Is that a smile I see?”

“Shut up,” Kyle says despite the fact that he’s outright grinning now and can’t seem to stop it. In response Kenny just giggles, the sound reminiscent of a symphony. One of the most beautiful things Kyle has ever heard.

And when he finally walks out of that coffee shop, drawn-on coffee cup in hand, Kyle looks up at the sky and can’t help but notice that it’s the exact same shade of blue as Kenny’s eyes.

***

He keeps going back.

Every morning, almost without fail, Kyle keeps finding himself returning to that coffee shop. And every morning Kenny is there to greet him, bright blue eyes and an easy smile. It becomes a pattern between them, where every morning Kenny draws pictures on the sides of his coffee cup, and Kyle pretends not to be enamored as Kenny giggles from over the counter.

It was strange. The barista, Kenny...it was like he had this aura about him. This easy flow of motion that almost glowed, all shining sky blue eyes with a cheerful smile. But he was also unpredictable. Sometimes flicking through emotions like a slideshow: joy, mischief, smarm, ...melancholy. He was _vibrant_. Kyle hadn’t even really held a conversation with him, and somehow he was still one of the most interesting people he had ever met.

One of the most _real_ people he had ever met.

Every day that Kyle would walk into that coffee shop he felt himself approaching a feeling he’s horrified to name. Like taking a step towards a precipice. One step. Then two. Then three. If he were to reach the edge, would he fall, or would he fly?

They were questions he shouldn’t be asking.

He had his life all figured out. Every action he took was a perfectly sculpted piece of a puzzle that would lead him to success. He was doing great in law school, had a girlfriend that most guys would die for, and his parents were finally proud of him.

What more could he want?

The answer to that question looks up at him from over the counter. Sky blue eyes lighting up at the sight of him, dream mixing thoughts into reality.

Kyle hadn’t even realized that he’d been walking here. The intention had been to walk straight to class, and yet here he was. Drawn here once again, another step towards the edge.

He was getting in too deep. This needed to stop.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Kyle snaps at the exuberant barista after he hands him his cup with another drawing scrawled along the side. Anger has always been his default when things got complicated. Especially when he had no one to blame but himself. Idiot.

Kenny looks a bit taken aback but answers him with an easy shrug anyway.

“I thought it looked like you needed cheering up.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Then, without waiting to hear Kenny’s reply, Kyle storms out of the shop and continues his route to his class. All the way trying his best to ignore the fluttery feeling twisting persistently in his gut from the memory of the way the blond’s eyes would always light up at the sight of him. A light that had quickly been extinguished the moment he went and snapped at him.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Kyle swears that he won’t go there anymore.

It was for the best.

***

Staying away turns out being a lot harder than Kyle anticipates.

It’s akin to having a taste of _something_ , something with a bit of color within his dull and ordinary life. And then turning away to face the same old pattern. His feet echoing hallowly on the concrete, classroom lights illuminating the dreary and mundane faces hunched over their laptops. Cartman smirking over another broken appliance, the same old fights while Stan pinched the bridge of his nose from the sofa. Even Leslie had seemed especially dull, having the emotional capability of a damn rock while she prattled on in fine-tuned detail the exact way she wanted _their_  future apartment to look. Not like Kyle could possibly deserve a say in that, despite the fact that they’d be splitting the bills.

Whatever. What did it matter anyway? Leslie always got what she wanted, he’d figured that out years ago.

He lasts almost a week before he finds himself entering that damned coffee shop again. He’d had another fight with Cartman and had stormed out of the apartment about an hour earlier then he needed to. He was tired, angry, and miserable.

So, this was where he ended up.

Upon noticing his entrance, Kenny gives him a tight lipped smile from across the counter. “The usual?”

Kyle nods and Kenny rings him up, before turning without another word to prepare his drink.

Brow creasing in perplexity, Kyle doesn’t really know what to feel. While just seeing the blond managed to satisfy some part of him, there was another part that was shattered at the cold treatment he was receiving. He deserved it of course, and this was what he wanted, wasn’t it? A reason to leave and never come back? To be able to return to his life and routine as he had before?

But then why the fuck did this bother him so much?

A few moments later, Kenny passes over his coffee and Kyle’s frown deepens at the sight of it.

“What, no drawing today?”

Kenny crooks his head to the side. “...I thought you said you didn’t want them.”

Right. What the hell was he even saying?

“I don’t!” He snaps, aggravated at himself.

“Okay,” Kenny says slowly after a moment of hesitation, “you’re kind of sending mixed signals here.”

“Just...forget it.”

He turns to leave, tired of making an idiot of himself and unsure of what the hell he even wanted. There had to be something wrong with him.

“Hey, wait.” The sound of the barista’s voice makes him halt his steps. Not that he should have stopped in the first place, but he looks over his shoulder to meet eyes with the tragically beautiful blond anyway. With a slight nod, Kenny turns his head to call into the back, “Tweek is it alright if I take my break?” After a squawk of confirmation, Kenny looks back at him with that little crooked smile that probably had the power to end world wars. “Sit down with me for a little while?”

Kyle couldn’t have said no if he wanted to.

Wordlessly, they grab a booth near the back. Not that it mattered, the shop clearly didn’t get all that much business and Kyle couldn’t help but wonder how it was they were still open. There were a few customers he’d seen every now and then, but never anything to write home about.

Naturally, not even a moment after they’re settled, Kenny takes one look at him and a smarmy little grin adorns his features.

“You know, some might consider this a first date,” he says, to which Kyle rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“Is this how you get all your prospects?”

“What, by whisking away pretty redheads to the back of my workplace and hoping they might be into me as much as I’m into them?” He lifts his shoulders in a small shrug. “Nah, you’re the first.”

Kyle blinks. Floundering around in his head for some kind of response to that. It was strangely honest, and although it was now clear to him that the connection he felt wasn’t only one-sided, the utter boldness takes him by complete surprise.

Kenny, to his credit, looks just as surprised at his own words and immediately sinks down to the table. Crossing his arms on the stained mahogany, he rests his chin within them and obscures half his face, looking up at Kyle through blond lashes. Masterfully playing coy while he waited for Kyle’s response.

If things were different, Kyle would probably have leaped at the invitation. He’d been on the earth for twenty-one years, and never had he met anyone quite like Kenny. Doubted he ever would again.

If only things were different.

“It’s not going to work,” Kyle says, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “You’re wasting your time, I have a girlfriend.”

Kenny’s expression seems to fall, but after a moment it shifts and his eyes once again regain their glimmer. “You’re talking as if any time spent with you could ever be considered wasted,” he says, voice muffled from his arms.

Unable to keep up his false bravado after a line like that, Kyle deflates with a sigh.

“I was a dick to you,” he says, tone soft, “why are you being so nice to me?”

“Did you want the fun answer or the truth?”

With a creased brow, Kyle asks, “What kind of question is that?”

Kenny finally lifts his head from his arms and sits up straight, offering a small shrug. “A lot of people don’t like the truth,” he explains. “They’d rather hear that I thought their ass looked great, then to hear I just thought they might really need someone to talk to.”

For a moment Kyle wonders if he had really looked that lonely. If he had looked that much in need of help.

“...Was that your reason?”

“Part of it,” he admits. “I’ve punched my fair share of walls, dude. Among other things. And let me tell you, I would have given a lot for someone to show me there was still a bit of good left in the world.”

Something in his words sparks something in Kyle. A tune of recognition singing deep within his soul, a familiarity of feeling he himself had felt most his life.

“Do you still feel that way?” He asks quickly, wondering if Kenny can pick up on his sudden acute interest.

“A bit, but my friend Leo helped me get out of the worst of it. Even got me the job here. He’s a real good kid, sees the good in everything and everyone.” He smiles, a bittersweet tilt of the lips. “But even he just...doesn’t get it, you know?”

Kyle leans forward in his seat, hanging onto every word. “Get what?”

He shrugs again and gives him an almost shy smile as if he hadn’t quite meant to say all that.

But even if he doesn’t voice it, Kyle knows exactly what he means. It was like him and Stan. Loving him dearly as a friend yet feeling as if he would never fully understand him. That no one ever would. That people heard, but never really _listened_. That he’d be doomed to sit in crowded rooms feeling alone for the rest of his life.

Eyes connecting from across the table, that very understanding is established without words. Kyle feels it deep within his bones, as if he was truly connecting with someone for the first time. His heart skips a beat. Butterflies wage war within his stomach. He’d never been so-

 _No_. No, he had a girlfriend. Was in a relationship that he’d poured years and years of work into. He couldn’t be doing this.

“Look,” Kyle says, slamming his emotions away and beginning to rise from his seat. “I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me and everything, but I’m dating someone and I really don’t think-”

“There doesn’t have to be a romantic thing about it,” Kenny quickly cuts him of, almost desperately. As if afraid Kyle would walk away and out of his life forever. “We could be friends.”

Kyle hesitates, before settling back in his chair with a defeated slump to his shoulders. Who was he kidding? If he couldn’t stay away before, why would anything change now?

“Alright, friends then.”

And later that morning, when Kyle at last leaves the shop and steps outside, he swears the word isn’t quite as grey as he remembers it being.

***

And so, friends they became.

Not that friendship was a difficult thing to establish between the two of them. As Kyle had suspected, the pull he felt towards the blond barista went beyond any sort of initial first attraction and extended to a certain instantaneous connection he couldn't quite describe. Things were easy. As if they’d known each other for years instead of only days.

Every moment spent with him was akin to stepping out into the sun. A momentary respite from the shaded hues of life and an entrance into an easy warmth that felt so blessedly natural that he wanted nothing more than to bask in it until the end of his days.

Kyle had honestly forgotten that he could smile so much.

Kenny had a naturally flirtatious personality, seeming to aurate an easy charm that was indescribably attractive. Although it was for that very reason that Kyle adamantly refused to trade phone numbers, because he really didn’t need to deal with the ramifications of Leslie noticing a string of flirty text messages on his phone. And Leslie certainly had no qualms about looking at his chat history, was entirely open about doing so in fact. It was something he’d rather not risk. Besides, Kenny worked almost every day anyway, so there was seldom a day where they missed their little meeting. Their daily thirty minutes where they could hide away in the back of the coffee shop and forget that the rest of the world existed for a while.

“Have I mentioned yet that you’re a really damn good artist?” Kyle says on one of these days, inspecting his latest cup’s design.

Kenny’s smile widens, seeming truly touched. “No you haven’t, but thanks.” Leaning forward with a wink he continues, “Fun fact, I also draw all the signboards in the morning.”

He doesn’t need to look to know exactly what he was talking about. Like the drawing of the raccoon holding the coffee cup that had made him smile the very first day, the ‘daily specials’ board changed the drawing in accordance to what type of item was featured, whether it be a frappuccino, muffin, or any of the other items. There was also a promotional signboard out front. All were eye-catching and smile-inducing, so he really wasn’t at all surprised it was Kenny’s doing. He’d suspected as much after all.

“Dude, they’re amazing,” Kyle says with the amount of awe and respect they deserved, causing Kenny to look down at the table with a light flush of color to his cheeks. “You know, if you want to be an artist, you should pursue it. You could even be an art teacher.”

Kenny looks back up at him with a knowing grin. “Teaching, huh?”

Sometimes he really was surprised at just how well Kenny could read him. People hardly listened to him half the time, yet somehow the blond was able to pick up on the smallest of tells. It was part of what made talking to him so easy. Never was a breath wasted.

“I...used to want to be a teacher,” Kyle admits for the first time in years. Speaking of a dream that he’d left forgotten in the walls of his high school. “Well, professor actually. English.”

“Used to?”

“Yeah, it was too risky. The job market is horrible plus they don’t even make that much and-”

“Wait okay,” Kenny quickly cuts him off, “let me get this straight. You’re pushing me to be an art student, and then saying that becoming an English teacher would have been too risky?”

“It was different for me,” he says quietly, looking down at the deep mahogany of the table. 

“Dude, I have told you that my family’s poor as shit, right?” Kenny continues incredulously. “Couldn’t even afford to put food on the table? Still struggling just to get by?”

“Yeah, I know. But you have talent, Kenny.” His voice is soft yet strong, and he finally lifts his gaze to meet Kenny’s eyes. “I honestly believe you could go places.”

This time it’s Kenny’s turn to look away.

“It’s more of a hobby than anything,” he mumbles, tracing a grain of the wooden table with his finger.

“But you love it. Don’t give up on it if that’s what you love.” Kyle smiles, a bittersweet thing that speaks of a young redheaded boy from years ago that had once dared to dream. “You have a chance, don’t let it pass you by.”

When Kenny next meets his eyes there’s something distinctly thoughtful within them. Considering. He crooks his head and tells him, “It’s not too late for you either, you know?”

Kyle scoffs.

“Do you want to know what my parents gave me for my fifteenth birthday?” He begins in way of explanation, voice several shades of bitter. “A fucking briefcase. It had some money in it of course which was the real gift or whatever, but here I was just about to start high school and my parents thought it was some sort of historic moment that I’d just been given my ‘very first briefcase’.” He shakes his head, lips curling up into a bitter smile that matched his tone, “My future was decided a long time ago, now I’m two years into college and just finally starting to live it.”

“But-”

“Kenny, please,” Kyle stops him. “Look, I was angry about it for a while, but I’m fine now. Really.”

Kenny looks anything but convinced, but thankfully lets it go after that.

***

On Tuesday morning, Kyle walks into the shop the same time as usual only to find that Kenny isn’t there. Instead, in his place, is another blond boy that he’s never seen before, and he wonders for a moment about the fact that every worker he’d seen so far seemed to be a young blond. Wonders if that was like a job requirement or something. Squashing down a laugh at the image of that being listed on a job posting, Kyle walks up to the counter.

The barista looks up at him with an award-winning smile, and Kyle returns it the best that he can. He sees that the name on his nametag reads ‘Butters’, and Kyle wonders if they really allowed you to put nicknames on those things or if somehow that’s his actual name.

“Hey, is Kenny here?” He asks him before he can be asked what he wants to order.

“Nope,” Butters says cheerfully, “Kenny got moved to closing up on Tuesday nights...” He trails off, inspecting Kyle a bit closer before his smile somehow managed to get even wider. Kyle was a bit impressed. “Oh, you don’t happen to be Kyle, do ya?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Oh!” Butters claps his hand in a way he’d only ever seen teen girls do in movies. “He sure does talk about you an awful lot.”

Kyle raises a brow, utterly amused. “Does he now?”

“Sure does! Kenny’s a real great guy, I think it’d be real neat if you two started datin’.”

The words are said so casually that it catches Kyle completely off guard. It’s with a certain innocence that made it clear that it was what Butters truly believed. He’d never even met this kid before, did Kenny really speak that highly of him?

Before he can even summon up some semblance of a response, he hears the door open behind him and Butters turns to greet the customer that had just walked in. Maybe it was for the best, he really had no idea what else he would even say. But right as he turns to leave, for the first time his eye catches on a little jar on the counter that’s labeled ‘For College’.

Without the smallest bit of hesitation, Kyle reaches into his wallet and drops a twenty dollar bill into the jar.

***

When Kyle had been in high school he’d had his first real crush. She’d had an unpredictable personality and a certain degree of danger that seeped from her very being which sparked something within him, that interested him unlike anyone else ever had.

But whereas his interest in Leslie had sparked a small flame, whatever he had with Kenny had to be akin to some sort of wildfire because he’d never felt anything like this.

Kenny was unpredictability tuned to a fine tipped point. A mesmeric being that seemed almost unearthly. Fading into the background at some moments only to turn around and become the center of the universe. Sometimes Kyle wondered what would happen if he just leaned over the table and kissed him. If once he did then maybe his brain would fucking chill, and stop thinking about it so much. That’s how it worked, right?

Anything had to be better than this.

Kyle swallows thickly as Kenny sips the contents of his latte from his straw. He catches him staring and Kyle watches in horrified interest as a slow smirk plays on his lips and his eyes give off that mischievous sparkle he swears will be the end of him one day. Without breaking eye contact, Kenny places his drink flat on the table between them before slowly leaning down and once again taking the straw between his lips and sucking.

He should really stop staring.

Kyle watches mesmerized at the sight of a pink tongue darting out before vanishing once again.

Godammit brain, now was _not_ the time to take a vacation.

When the cup is completely empty Kenny finally straightens, tonguing over his lips and slipping him a smarmy smile after noticing Kyle’s intense focus on the motion.

“So…” He says, leaning forward in his seat and obviously trying to hold in laughter while Kyle attempts getting his brain to function again. “I hear someone’s been dropping twenties in our tip jar.”

Kyle blinks.

All of that, and _that’s_ what he brings up after?

Stupid flirty barista was going to be the death of him.

“No kidding.” Kyle says, completely deadpan.

Throwing a hand to his face, Kenny attempts muffling his giggles.

Reaching for his own drink, Kyle takes a measured sip of it before placing it back down on the table. Because Kyle’s not at all charmed by the giggly blond in front of him. Nope, not at all.

“Yeah,” Kenny finally continues after getting ahold of himself, “and it’s extra odd that it only happens on days that you come in.”

“It’s a good cause.”

“You know they made that for me, right?” Kenny asks, expression and tone softening. “You don’t have to give me anything, you’ve done more than enough.”

“Hey, don’t go pointing fingers.” Kyle counters with a smirk, straightening up in his seat and crossing his arms. “I still technically haven’t admitted to anything. Maybe you’ve attracted the eye of a rich doctor or something.”

The look he receives from Kenny in response is one of the most beautiful he’s ever seen. It’s something laced with so much unbridled fondness that it momentarily steals his breath away.

“Well, if you see him,” Kenny says, eyes sparkling and vivid blue, “make sure you tell that rich doctor thank you for me.”

Squashing down the butterflies within his chest, Kyle responds, “Will do.”

***

If someone were to ask Kyle five years ago what it was that he saw in Leslie, he probably could have come up with a small list. Nothing too shocking in length, but a decent sized listing of facts and traits that were appealing enough to make him want to spend time with her.

If he were asked that same question now, he’s not so sure he could even list five things. He’d try to make one, more out of morbid curiosity than anything, except he found that he really didn’t want to know the answer. What he did know, was that she had a certain way of getting under his skin in _just_ the right way, and it was fucking maddening.

“You look pissed,” Kenny comments the moment Kyle plops down in his normal seat with a huff.

“It’s my stupid girlfriend,” he grumbles, glancing down at the screen of his phone with scowl before finally shoving it into his pocket. “I can’t stand her half the time! She’s a fucking control freak. Never listens to a damn word I say, like she thinks I can’t make my own damn decisions or something.”

Kyle finishes his little tirade with another huff and continues to glare down at the table while picturing Leslie’s dumb face.

“Wanna talk about it?” Kenny asks gently.

With a shake of his head, Kyle finally meets his gaze. Almost immediately, the majority of his anger evaporates at the sight of the sparkling blue concern sheltered within Kenny’s eyes. Kyle takes a deep breath.

“It’s nothing really,” he tells Kenny. “We’ve been looking at apartments and it’s just been a total pain in the ass.”

“Woah, that serious huh? You sure you want to move in together?”

“No.” The word falls off his tongue immediately and without thought. It’s only after the sharp look Kenny sends him that Kyle grimaces and attempts explaining himself better. “I mean, in a way yeah. We’ve been dating since high school so this logically seems like the next step in our relationship.” He shrugs. “Besides, I can’t stand sharing a place with Cartman anymore.”

“But you don’t like her,” Kenny says as if it’s a fact, taking a nonchalant sip of his drink.

Kyle blanches.

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Kenny sets down his cup and offers him a sympathetic smile. “I can tell dude. You get the same look on your face everytime you talk about her as you do when you talk about your parents.”

He says it so easily. So simply. Something stirs within Kyle, something that had been curled up and hidden suddenly moving as if to greet the sun. Nobody ever really listened to him. It was a fact of life, one he had accepted. Yet, Kenny has apparently been hanging onto his every word and troubled expression. He doesn’t really know how to voice that though, or even if he should at all. So, instead he decides to focus on the implications of his words and frowns down at the table.

“I don’t... _dislike_ her.”

“So, you’re settling?”

“I’m not settling,” Kyle says a little too quickly. “It’s just...a bit complicated.”

Kenny gives Kyle a disbelieving look and rests his chin on his palm. “Oh, please do tell.”

With a sigh, Kyle decides to do just that.

“I told you before how I met her in high school?” He begins, with a small bittersweet smile. Recalling the memories of a life that felt so long ago. “Well, she’d been one of the smartest people in my class and was...just _different_.” Kyle slowly shakes his head, “I don’t know how to explain it. But she could be diabolical at times, especially when Cartman was giving me shit, but then would turn sweet and understanding as if someone had flipped a switch. My friends and my parents all love her, and I…”

He trails off, brows furrowing as he finds himself unable to say what should come naturally. What he had convinced himself to be true in his head, yet for the first time, realizes he has never actually voiced out loud. It doesn’t escape Kenny’s notice.

“And you…?” Kenny pushes.

He meets his eyes from across the table. The mahogany surface separating green and blue. Confusion and sympathy. Somehow, as they share their silent conversation, Kyle suspects that Kenny is well aware of the exact reason he can’t answer even as he himself remains in the dark.

***

Sometimes there’s only so much a person can take.

Only so many restless nights. Only so many classes spent in a distracted haze while the future that depended on retaining every bit of information wobbled overhead. Only so many evenings spent sitting with Leslie while wondering if this was how he wanted to spend the rest of his days.

Always wondering.

Thinking.

Questioning.

It never fucking stopped.

So, when he barges into that blasted coffee shop on one Tuesday night, it’s without any rational thought. His brain is spinning little confused mantras, flashes of images and possibilities that won’t leave him the hell alone. Kenny looks over at him in clear surprise from where he’s wiping down tables, the entire shop blessedly empty at this time of night.

Kyle’s eyes narrow at the sight of him. “ _You_.”

“Kyle? What-”

He doesn’t let him finish.

“I’ll have you know that I went to bed early tonight because I couldn’t focus on my fucking paper that’s due at nine tomorrow morning,” Kyle says, cutting him off while storming his way into the shop like a terrifying force of nature. Frustration boiling into an all-consuming rage. “So, I tried going to sleep and setting my alarm for an ungodly early hour in the morning to finish and now I can’t sleep! And it’s- All. Your. Fault.” He growls, towering over Kenny and pairing each word with a jab of his index finger towards the blond’s confused face.

“I uh...I’m sorry?”

But Kyle hardly even hears the words.

Instead he reaches forward grabs the front of Kenny’s shirt tight within his fist. “Please get the hell out of my head,” he murmurs like a prayer, before he slams his lips against Kenny’s. The blond makes a surprised noise and as if in reflex his hands fly to Kyle’s shoulders, fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

For a moment all he can register is warmth. The soft warmth of lips pressed against his own, sending tingles down his spine like an electric current. The warmth of Kenny’s hands burning through his clothes and clutching at him as if he’s the only real thing in the universe. As it turned out, all of his imaginings had no way prepared him for this. His prior theories could all go to hell because kissing Kenny certainly didn’t make the _want_ go away. No.

No, instead it made it stronger. Made it flare up as if it was a living beast, unable to be controlled with any remaining part of his mind that once held reason. He wants to go further. To part lips and explore undiscovered territory, to wrap his arms around Kenny’s waist so he can pull him flush against him and-

Kyle abruptly pushes him away, eyes blown wide and chest heaving. He stumbles backwards until the backs of his thighs hit a table and he quickly turns and presses his palms against the flat surface, allowing it to take some of his weight and keep him steady.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like that.

After a moment Kenny moves forward, and Kyle squinches his eyes shut at the way he can feel every inch his body spark with heat as Kenny comes to stand beside him. It was as if his every nerve was on fire. Each one begging him to just give in and press the blond into the nearest surface.

“If you want me, you can have me,” Kenny mutters softly.

Kyle bows his head and shivers, the words like salvation to a dying man. A too real temptation. An offer uttered in a dimly lit coffee shop, off a dark and lifeless street, where no one would be around to see him allow himself just one single good thing in his damn life. It’s almost impossible to resist.

Almost.

‘It’s not that simple,” he says instead.

Kenny doesn't respond for a moment, but when he does his tone is hard.

“What, because of your girlfriend that you’re not even into? Or is it just because I’m a guy?”

Kyle shakes his head and shoots him a look. “I don’t care that you’re a guy,” he whispers. “It’s just...the minute I break up with Leslie everything changes.”

“No shit, and that’s such a bad thing?”

“I don’t even know what I’d tell everyone,” Kyle curses, nails digging into the table as he lets out a sharp laugh, “My mom will probably just beg me to apologize and get her back, and my dad-”

“Okay enough with all that,” Kenny cuts him off, grabbing at his arm and spinning Kyle around so he’d finally face him. Kyle meets his eyes, startled at his sudden change in demeanor. “I’m tired of you talking about everyone as if you care more about whatever the hell they want more than what you want. How about you stop thinking about literally everyone else and focus on you.” And with that, he takes a step forward so that his body is but a fraction of an inch away from Kyle’s. Alighting every nerve ending in flame. “What do you want, Kyle?”

The root of the question catches him off guard, Kyle wasn’t sure if anyone had ever asked him what he wanted. He hesitates, lips parted in preparation of an answer he can’t find.

Placing a hand on his arm, Kenny leans his head in closer until his lips are but a breath away from his. “What do you want?” He repeats, voice a breathy whisper that ghosts against Kyle’s jaw and sends a shiver straight down his spine. Kyle hardly hears the words, so entirely focused on the feel of having him so close. Within his reach. The faint scent of coffee and something indescribable yet earthly fills his senses. Kenny’s hands pleasantly burning through the fabric of his clothes and causing a pleasant tremor to wrack his body.

Kenny was asking him what he wanted?

He wants to close the small gap between them. Wants to press his lips to his and allow his tongue to delve inside and explore and taste for the very first time. Wants to feel his heart pounding within his chest as he presses this perfect human being, this boy with so much life and energy, up against the wall where he can keep him trapped and safe. Wants to claim the freedom that lives inside Kenny’s eyes and look into them every day for the rest of his life.

Kyle wants a lot of things, has always wanted a lot of things.

But none have ever been within his reach. Not even with as easy Kenny was making it sound.

“Let go,” Kyle tells him quietly.

Kenny does, releasing his grip on his arm and backing away. Cold seeps deep into Kyle’s bones, everything in him crying out for him to drag Kenny right back in. To never let him go.

But the number one thing Kyle had learned over his years was that in life you never really got what you wanted. And what you wanted wasn’t always the best thing for you.

_“You’ll thank us one day, bubbe.”_

In front of him, Kenny is looking at him in clear disappointment as well as something that might be pity. It hurts more than he’d like to admit and Kyle tears his gaze away from him.

“I like you a lot Kyle,” he hears Kenny tell him after another moment passes in silence. His tone hard, but not entirely unkind. “But I’m not going to let myself get pulled back and forth while you decide whether or not you want to spend the rest of your life fucking miserable. So, do us both a favor, and just go.” He pauses, and as if just registering the heartbreak that must be written all over Kyle’s face, his voice turns softer. “And when you stop being a stubborn self-destructive bastard, you know where to find me.”

And just like that, it’s over.

As it were, the moment Kyle steps out of that coffee shop that night, he knows it will be the last time he does so for a long while.

***

And so time passes. Not much, not enough to be measured by seasons or by years. Yet, still Kyle finds himself counting the days by hours. Tallying up the number of steps that will take him past with coffee shop in the morning before he can trust himself to look up. Contemplating the number of sleeping pills he can take before ‘enough to get him to sleep’ blurs into the line of ‘too much’.

“Sweetie,” Leslie says to him one day while he’s visiting her own shared apartment, “I’m going to need you to take a trip with me tomorrow so you can sign some papers.”

Kyle looks up from the textbook he’d been flipping through, giving her an odd look.

“...What?”

“I put down a deposit on an apartment,” she explains to him nonchalantly as she continues filing her nails. Doesn’t even sit up. Just remains laying across her bed. “We need you to sign some things to get everything finalized.”

Kyle swears he stops breathing. A thousand things piling up on top of each other, and all suddenly come crashing down.

“I’m sorry _what_?!” He snarls, tossing the damned textbook onto the floor and shooting to his feet. “You bought a fucking apartment without even telling me?!”

“I didn’t think you would mind.” Leslie shrugs, sparing him a bored glance. “I liked it. Even if you had seen it, we would have purchased it anyway.”

“That’s not the point!” His nails dig deeply into his palms so hard that they tremble at his sides. He might even be drawing blood, but he doesn’t give two shits. “You can’t just _assume_ that! How hard would it have been to fucking ask me first?!”

As if just realizing that Kyle wasn’t going to just let this go, Leslie sighs.

“I shouldn’t have acted the way that I did.” She apologizes, her voice taking on the soothing tone she always used when Kyle got upset over something. “Though I am sure we can work past it. No relationship is perfect Kyle, sometimes people make mistakes.”

Kyle’s eyes narrow as if he’s only just seeing her for the first time.

“Yeah,” he says, “they do.”

“I’m sorry.”

And Kyle _laughs_.

She stares at him blankly as he borders on the edge of hysterics, her own eyes narrowing. “What is wrong with you?”

Kyle only laughs harder.

“What’s wrong with me? Oh no, don’t you dare even play that card. I gave you fucking _everything_! I put everything I had into making this piece of shit relationship work! And well, you know what? I’m fucking done with this.”

For a moment Leslie just looks at him, as if contemplating something. Then she says, “Okay.”

“That’s really all you have to say?”

“Yeah, what else did you want?” As she speaks there is something unreadable in her expression that he can’t quite place. He was never any good at reading her, maybe it was that very mystery that drew him to her in the first place. Ironic, really. “It’s a shame we can no longer buy a house together, but I’m sure I can make do without you.”

Torn between wanting to fall into hysterics or scream until the universe itself shattered, Kyle just shakes his head and goes to leave. She doesn’t try to stop him. And for a moment, he wonders if she was even human. If she ever was.

He pauses right as he reaches the door. “Tell me, did you ever even fucking care for me at all?”

Several seconds pass in silence and Kyle thinks that maybe she’s not going to answer. But right as his hand goes for the doorknob, she speaks.

“We’ve been together a long time Kyle,” she tells him. “I could make you stay but I won’t, take that the way you will.”

Of course. Silly of him to think she’d give him a straight answer, even now. How was he not surprised?

“Have a nice life, asshole.”

And with that, Kyle finally throws open the door and storms out of her apartment.

He doesn’t have a clue where he’s going. The anger burns so strongly that his chest is heaving and the universe seems hell-bent on spinning around him. He’s humiliated, hurt, and feels like such a fucking idiot. And to think that he-

_“What do you want?”_

Halfway on his way to nowhere, it hits him.

How stupid he had been and how wrong he had been about everything. Facts and a worldview that had been shoved down his throat, yet in the end meant nothing.

How Kenny had been right.

The world comes crashing down.

And the moment it does, Kyle just leans against the side of some building and laughs until he cries.

***

Time passes much like before, but this time Kyle has a different way of dealing with it.

It’s as if he’s seeing the world clearly for the first time. The fog having lifted and revealing a fork in the road that led to a thousand other avenues. A break in the chains that labeled everything he thought he knew, and giving him the freedom and weightlessness he finally needed to pursue what he wanted.

But there was one thing he needed to do first.

He’d been so stupid. So, entirely stupid. Blinded by his own misconceptions of the universe that he had missed what had been written right in front of him. So, as the days pass, Kyle plans an apology to the one person who had showed him that things could be different. Gives himself some time to accept a world without Leslie breathing down his neck, and daydreams about a vivid and cheerful blond barista who he had fallen in love with, despite all of his efforts not to.

The day he finally sums up the courage happens to be on a bright and sunny Thursday in the middle of September. He wakes up before his alarm especially early, and decides that this would be the day. And so, he once again walks to that old coffee shop. Opening the doors and…

...Being greeted by Butters.

“Where’s Kenny?” Kyle asks him, trying not to let the disappointment show on his face.

Butters’ initial surprise at seeing him settles into a cheerful smile. “He went to art school,” he tells him, and Kyle’s heart drops. Catapults straight to his feet. “Said he submitted his portfolio and got accepted with almost a full ride, and had enough tip and donation money saved up to cover the other expenses.”

It takes Kyle a moment to make sense of the words. A numb feeling travels throughout his body as it slowly sinks in. The news is...good. Kenny was finally out living his dream, just as Kyle had wanted him to. But it didn’t make the fact that he was gone hurt any less. Something that might have been hope curling up into a ball and climbing up his throat in an attempt to choke him.

Here he’d finally figured things out. But he’d just been a little too late.

“That’s great.” Kyle says after a moment, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “I’m happy for him.”

The minute he says the words he turns to leave, not wanting to have to deal with the news in front of a stranger. He’d probably skip class today.

“Wait, didn’t ya wanna order anything?”

Kyle is about to say no when he catches the sight of Butters’ almost sad look. As if he’d be terribly unhappy if he didn’t order coffee right that moment.

He sighs and orders his usual, despite not really being in the mood to drink it. Butters gives him his award-winning smile before ringing him up and then turning to make his drink. As he stands there, Kyle’s gaze flickers to the all too familiar booth in the back. To the signboard that had words scrawled across it but no picture.

He really was happy for him. And in the end, he hoped he got to fully live his dream. No one deserved it more than Kenny.

A moment later, Butters hands over his cup; yet, just as Kyle takes it within his hands something on the side catches his eye and his breath catches.

He slowly lifts his gaze to Butters’ knowing smile. “He left that for ya,” he explains. “Now I don’t really know what went on between you fellas, but Kenny sure was happy when you were stoppin’ by all those days. Even if he’d had the money, I don’t think he would’a ever went and applied to that school if it weren’t for you.”

The words sink in, and Kyle smiles brilliantly.

He’d helped him after all. Just as Kenny had helped him.

“Thank you,” he tells Butters honestly.

Butters’ smile just widens and he nods. And with that, Kyle turns and walks out of the shop for what probably will be the last time.

Standing under the light of the early morning sun, Kyle looks down at the cup again. On it was a drawing in an art style that was way too familiar. A drawing that Kyle recognizes as the mascot of one of the neighboring colleges in the area. And written underneath were three words:

_‘Come find me.’_

Momentary euphoria fading, Kyle searches the cup for something else. A phone number or something, because how was he supposed to find-

Then he bows his head and _laughs_ , because of course the answer was in his hand. All colleges had a coffee shop of some kind on campus.

And that’s where he’d find Kenny.

Checking his phone for the time, he makes a decision. The school was relatively close and he still had about an hour until their old meeting time. It would do.

And so, he begins walking.

A new destination in mind, but this time one that he’d chosen to find by his choice alone. Leaving behind the path that he walked every single day to instead go in the opposite direction. Unexplored territory. Every single one of his footsteps on the concrete taking him one step closer to his new beginning.


End file.
